Pins
by Torean
Summary: Roy Mustang, the healthiest man alive. Yeah, right! After Roy has a heart attack, Ed is assigned to stay with him to make sure he doesn't overdo it. What feelings arise in the new living situation? RoyEd
1. My Heart Fails Me

**All right, Roy doesn't say anything in this. All of his lines are thoughts and this is because he's trying to conserve energy, so chatting up a storm is not on the top-priority list for him. It's sorta slow in some parts, just so you know. Anyway, hope you enjoy reading and please review!**

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There was a strange feeling running through the air. The sky was a brilliant blue, the sun was shining brightly, and the city was alive, but all of that seemed like a disguise. It all seemed like a façade for something much more sinister. And it was.

He woke up with that sinister feeling coursing through him. It was too beautiful and right a day for anything bad to happen, so he sucked it up and got ready for the day. Regular, same old routine. Nothing new. He showered, dressed, forced his hair to cooperate, ate breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast, drank some coffee, and left.

The smell of dew was thick in the air and a gentle mist covered the earth. His boots sang with the birds as he walked down the sidewalk with heavy steps. He took a deep breath, savoring the freshness in the cool, morning air. It was refreshing, but he just wished that it would do more for him. He wished it would get rid of the terrible feeling in him, the terrible feeling in his chest. It felt like a million pins slamming on his heart with every beat. And it wasn't just on his chest. The pain radiated up his neck and dug into his upper back.

He shrugged the pain off, telling himself that he'd felt much worse before. He sighed as he ascended the steps to Headquarters. The sigh was because he felt so old, so very old.

"Good morning, Colonel," Hawkeye greeted as he walked into the room.

He simply nodded in return, not feeling up to talking. He placed his hand on the door knob to his office and stalled right there. His world started to spin around him so very fast causing his vision to double. Several beads of sweat trailed down his cheek from his forehead. He turned around to lean against the closed door, his breathing picking up to a dangerous rate. He grabbed at his chest, the pain so intense that it made his left arm go numb. Through this pain, he felt so nauseous that he feared he would throw-up his insides.

"S-sir? Are you okay?" Riza asked, taking a step toward him. Everyone in the office stood from their desks in worry.

Roy cried out as the pain intensified. He'd never felt pain so great. He wanted it to end. He would sell his soul if the pain would just end! Finally, he gave into the darkness that called out to him. He fell over, hitting the hard floor with a loud thud. He could faintly hear frantic voices over him and then he felt like he was moving. After that came complete darkness.

Roy's eyes fluttered open and he was confused as he looked around him. It took him over a minute to figure out that he was in a hospital room. Everything was so white, so pure, but he couldn't figure out what that annoying beeping sound was.

"Oh, you're awake. You gave us quite a scare back there, Colonel."

_'Who are you?' _

He looked at the woman standing next to the bed. She looked terribly familiar, but he couldn't find a name. Damn, his mind was just so foggy.

He found that he had an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth and an IV in his arm. As he looked around, he saw that the culprit to the beeping sound was him. He was hooked up to some heart monitoring machine and he was embarrassed to find that he had a urinary catheter in him. He felt pathetic and weak.

He closed his eyes when he felt the woman's hand press against his forehead.

_'Second Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, how lovely to see you.'_

Finally, the fog in his mind was starting to dissolve.

His eyes remained closed as he felt her hand trail up into his hair and he felt her lips press against his forehead.

"I was so scared, Roy. I thought...I thought you were dead," she whispered.

_'Nah, won't go down that easily. But what happened?'_

"I'll be back. I'm going to go get the doctor, okay?"

_'All right, but can you hurry up? I really don't like being here. Hate hospitals.'_

He opened his eyes, his gaze following the blue-clad figure out of the room. He leaned his head against the pillow feeling suddenly very tired. He closed his eyes again only to open them as the door opened to let in Riza and an older looking man with a white coat.

Roy watched as the man pulled a small light out of his front pocket. He flashed it in his eyes and told Roy to follow it as he moved it in different directions. The man also checked the monitor, IV and bladder bag.

"Good evening, sir. I'm Dr. Fischer and you'll be under my care and that of my staff during your stay."

_'That's all fine and dandy, but that doesn't tell me what the hell happened!'_

"Do you know what myocardial infarction is?"

_'No, but I have a terrible suspicion what it is.'_

"Myocardial infarction is the medical term for heart attack. Colonel Mustang, you had a heart attack today and quite frankly you're lucky to be alive. It's strange though. You're not diabetic, don't smoke, your cholesterol and blood pressure's fine, so this really shouldn't have happened. According to your family's medical history, this isn't prevalent in your genetics either. You're really very healthy and it baffles me that this happened. But do keep in mind that we haven't discovered all the reasons behind these attacks. Our medical technology is unfortunately limited in this area."

_'Well, am I going to be okay?'_

"But don't worry, Colonel, if you just take it easy for the next few weeks, everything should turn out fine. We'll keep you closely monitored and make sure you get the immediate care you deserve."

_'I don't recall doctors being this nice and caring...'_

He watched as the doctor pulled Riza off to the side and said a few words to her. He wished he could hear what they were saying, because he knew it was about him. It had to be.

After the doctor left, Riza slumped in the chair next to the bed. He was concerned about her when she covered over eyes with her hand and took several deep breaths.

_'Riza, what's wrong? Are you upset? You sure look it.'_

"You should get some rest, Colonel. The Fuhrer himself will be coming to pay you a visit," she said, removing her hand to look at him.

_'The Fuhrer? What a surprise. Well, I guess I'll do what you say this time. Sleep would be nice.'_

He leaned his head against the pillow and pulled the blanket further up his body. It wasn't long before he was in a deep and much needed sleep.

Roy opened his eyes at the strange sensation that he was being watched and watched closely. It felt as if someone was hovering directly over him and he was partially right.

As soon as his eyes opened, his friend came in view.

"Roy, I came as soon as I heard. Are you okay?" Hughes asked. Roy just nodded.

_'When did you get here? Where's Riza?'_

"Riza told me that they're going to keep you here for a week or so."

Roy turned his head slightly, but something colorful caught his attention. On the window sill rested several bouquets of flowers. Hughes followed his friend's gaze and smiled.

"A lot of people care about you, Roy."

_'Yay me. One of those is yours, I'm sure. I know that Gracia made you send them.'_

"These are from us," Hughes said echoing Roy's thoughts as he gently traced the petals on a yellow lily. "Gracia wanted me to give them to you. I would've anyway, of course."

_'I know you all too well, old friend.'_

Hughes looked down at his watch and muttered a curse under his breath.

"Fuhrer should be here any minute," he said.

Just as Hughes had said, a few minutes passed by before there was a knock at the door and the Fuhrer stepped in the room. Hughes immediately went at attention and Roy lifted his right arm to salute too but found he was too weak to lift it all the way.

"No need for that," he said. "Colonel Mustang, I hope you're feeling well and I do hope your recovery will be a quick and easy one. To ensure that your health only strengthens, I have assigned the best medical staff in Central to your care."

_'Oh, well that explains the nice doc.'_

"Also, after your release here, you will still be required to take several weeks worth of bed rest. During this time you will have someone assigned to you to see that your needs are met."

_'A nurse? Hope she's cute!'_

"So for now, just take it easy, Colonel," he said and with a nod, then turned and left.

"Is it just me or does he make you nervous too?" Hughes asked, slumping into the chair much like Riza had done. Roy shrugged.

He closed his eyes with every intention of falling back to sleep, but his plan was stopped as the door was flung open moments later and a small, blond boy walked in with a frantic look on his face.

"Colonel!"

"Shh, Ed," Hughes said, placing his finger over his lips.

Roy rolled his eyes, then closed his eyes once more. He was too tired to deal with Ed, not that he didn't mind his company and he was actually pleased by his concern.

"Is he going to be okay?" Ed asked, lowering his voice just above a whisper.

_'Hmm, I think I'll just do a bit of listening for awhile...'_

"That's what they're telling me," Hughes replied as he looked at the face distorted from the oxygen mask. "Have they told you yet?"

_'What? Told him what?'_

"Yeah, I don't mind though. I'm actually glad they picked me. Gives me something to do for a change. Makes me feel as if I matter."

_'What are they talking about?'_

"You're going to have to be on your toes, Ed."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. The nurses here already drilled me about all I have to do."

_'Damn, I wish I knew...what...they...were...'_

He dozed off in mid-thought. He hated being this tired, this weak. It was humiliating!

He woke again feeling remarkably better than before, and if he had been up to talking, then that poor nurse... When he woke, he found that the company he had in his room was of a tiny, red-lipped nurse who was checking up on him.

"Good morning, Colonel," she said upon noticing his open eyes and aware expression.

_'Please, call me Roy.'_

"All of your stats seem to be fine."

_"Why thank you. You're pretty fine too. Wait...yeah, we'll go with that. You're fine!'_

"You got more flowers sent to you last night while you were asleep. At this rate, this room will become a garden!"

_'And every flower is dedicated to you.'_

"Well, I'll be back soon with breakfast."

_'Are you going to feed me yourself? I'd like that.'_

The nurse gave him a kind smile before leaving the room.

As he waited for the arrival of his meal, finding himself unbearably ravenous, he entertained himself by doing idiotic things. For instance, he spent a few minutes twiddling his thumbs, but a simple twiddle turned into him having five minutes worth of thumb-wars...with himself.

_'I am a worthy opponent, if I do say so myself.'_

After that lost his interest, he found himself staring fondly at the bouquets of flowers. It was a great surprise to him that that many people cared about him. As he looked at the flowers, he saw a new bouquet, just like the nurse had said. It was a small vase with a single red rose and a card was fastened to it with a red ribbon over the belly of the vase. He wondered who it was from.

The same nurse from before came in the room a few minutes later with a cart that had several trays on it. She took one tray and set it on the small bedside table, then wheeled the cart outside the room for another nurse to take. She removed the oxygen mask on his face and dipped a spoon in the bowl of broth. She carefully eased it to his lips and he gratefully accepted. He grimaced at its taste.

"I know it's not that great, but it's good for you."

_'Okay, if you feed me like this, then I'll eat it.'_

He ate as much as he could before he had to decline another spoonful. She smiled, clearly pleased that he'd eaten about half the meal. She stood to leave, but Roy gentle grabbed her wrist then he pointed at the single rose on the window sill. She must've been used to silent requests such as this for she immediately understood and went to the vase where she lifted it and set it next to the tray on the table.

"It's beautiful. Oh, look, there's a card too. Would you like for me to read it for you?"

Roy nodded.

"It says, 'Get well soon, you morally-corrupt, arrogant, self-centered moron with a God-like complex.' My word! Who would say such a thing?"

Roy smiled brightly, a faint chuckle coming forth from the back of his throat.

_'Thank you, you smaller-than-small, naive, short-tempered shrimp.'_

"Oh, it's an inside joke then?"

_'Yeah, something like that.' _He nodded his answer.

She replaced the oxygen mask on his face, smiled, said goodbye, then left.

Roy stared at the rose for a long time before he closed his eyes again and dozed off. There really wasn't anything else he could do except sleep.

As the day went on, Roy really began to enjoy the visits from the tiny nurse. However, his ego was shot down when he found our that not only was she married, but she also had a patient with more urgent needs than him, a patient who gets the highly-fantasized sponge bath.

But that aside, the vase with the single rose stayed by his bed until it withered away. One day, the giver of the rose came to see how he was doing and Roy couldn't help but notice how uneasy he seemed. Roy noticed that Ed's eyes kept looking at the rose as if he couldn't figure out why Roy had it in the honored position next to him. Roy wasn't even certain either. Perhaps they stayed there because that's where the nurse had left them? Wasn't like Roy could move them himself.

After the million visits from his close friends, the thousand visits from the tiny nurse, and the one hundred check-ups from the doctor, Roy was finally set free. He was more than happy to be out of that bed, and when he was leaving, he tried to let them let him walk, but they said he had to use a wheelchair when leaving.

He was ecstatic to be back home and he was even happier when he remembered what the Fuhrer had told him about him getting his own nurse while he was on bed rest. But he didn't see any new, cute face before him. He only saw Hughes, Ed, and Riza in front of him. While one had a cute face, none were at all new to him.

"Roy, until you're completely fit again, the Fuhrer has assigned someone to take care of you. Well, being that we all have jobs and he doesn't, Ed has been assigned for the job. His things have already been moved in and he'll be staying with you until you're okay-ed by Dr. Fischer," Hughes said.

Roy's jaw dropped at the news. Well, at least now he knew what Ed and Hughes had been talking about a few days ago.

"Don't worry. I'll take good care of you, old man," Ed said with a grin.

_'Oh hell, why don't I like the way that sounds!?'_

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**Don't worry, Roy will actually talk in the next chapter :3  
Comments are welcome!**

**Oh, I know Roy doesn't seem very concerned with what happened to him, but I'm planning on revealing some emotional information in the next chapter, just so you know.**


	2. Notes On My Heart

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I don't what the deal is, but I've been really lazy lately with updating fics. Sorry! Anyway, this chapter is really rushed, but this is nothing new in my fics. Something I'm still trying to improve on. I'm just kindly asking that you stick it all the way through to the end! I really find the first chapter way better than this one, not to say that this chapter sucks (I'm trying to break away from that too). Well, please read and review!

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The sun was high overhead, reluctant to begin its descent in the sky. There was a pleasant breeze travelling through the air that completed the serene and peaceful day. He hoped this wasn't another disguise for disaster as he stepped out of the car and was led to the front door of his house. Throughout the entire walk up the steps, Riza and Hughes laid down the laws.

"Stay in your bed for the first few days." "Do what you're told." "Don't raise Hell for Ed." "Blah-blah-blah-blah." By the time he opened the door, that was all he heard. He was a bit upset that they were treating him like such a kid, but he did what he was told to do, not having the energy or will to protest.

As soon as they entered his house, Riza instructed him to change and go straight to bed. He nodded and disappeared down the hallway into a room.

"We'll come by every now and then to check-up on things. If he causes any problems, then give one of us a call, okay?" Hughes said, a hand placed on Ed's shoulder.

"Remember what all Dr. Fischer and the nurses told you, Ed," Riza said, then they both left to leave Ed alone in the unfamiliar house.

Alone, Ed looked around the living room. It wasn't at all what he had expected it to be. He always pictured Roy to be the type that wouldn't keep his house neat and tidy, but Ed found that everything was in order and clean. He was also very surprised to see a bookshelf against the wall that had actual books and not erotica. But what really grabbed his interest was the black, upright piano that resided in the corner of the room.

He walked up to it, lightly trailing his fingers of the long row of white keys. He wondered if Roy could play it, but then again, if Roy couldn't play it, then why would he have it? The image of Roy playing piano, or any instrument for that matter, seemed so surreal.

Ed left the magnificent instrument to examine Roy's book collection. He found that the raven-haired man held a high interest in mystery novels. He smiled as he took one book from the shelf and read the summary on the inside cover. With nothing better to do, he sat on the sofa and began to read.

The book immediately opened up with a ridiculously-wealthy man falling ill, complaining of chest pains and dying later that day. Of course, the doctors found that the man's heart was completely healthy except that his bloodstream was riddled with some toxic chemical. The question was who had poisoned the man and why?

As his mind raced, absorbing the plot of the book, he began to regret the situation at hand. Before Roy was released, the doctor had talked to him about the possibility of something going wrong.

_"Do not be fooled, Major. He might be getting his energy back, but Colonel Mustang is still in a very fragile state. I want you to take this card. It has my number on it. If anything goes wrong, then call immediately and help will arrive."_

That card was in his coat pocket and he found himself checking to make sure that it was still there. He was suddenly nervous and feared that something could very well go wrong.

To keep his mind away from the 'what if's' of the current situation, Ed closed the book and journeyed to the back of the house and peeped his head in Roy's bedroom; he was fast asleep. Ed never realized it until then how youthful looking his superior had been, but in his poor state, he now looked so much older.

Satisfied that the raven-haired man was fine, Ed went back to the living room. He sighed deeply and wondered what he could do, other than reading, to keep his boredom at bay while the man slept. Roy would be doing a lot of that for the first few days.

He drummed his fingers on his lap for a minute, then his eyes went over to the clock. Noting the late hour, he went into the kitchen to prepare a hopefully edible meal. It was very difficult because he'd been told that everything Roy ate had to be low in salt and what food was in Roy's kitchen wasn't exactly what the doctor would mark as healthy, and plus, Ed had no clue where everything was.

At last, he figured out what to cook. However, a meal that would have taken him twenty minutes to prepare in his own kitchen took him triple that. He was surprised in himself though when he took a sample of the food and found it not only edible but tasty too.

"Ed, I would've helped if you'd asked."

Ed swiveled around on his heels to meet Roy's hunched figure in the threshold of the kitchen. His hair was disheveled and the line of buttons on the shirt to his blue pajamas were running down the left side of his body instead of straight down. His black eyes were dulled from sleep and his voice still held weakness.

"No way. You really shouldn't be out of bed yet," Ed said as he set two plates on the table and motioned for Roy to sit down.

Roy eyed the plate of food. Probably wondering its edibility, Ed assumed. Finally, Roy picked up his fork and began to eat.

"I know it's a bare meal, but I didn't have much to work with," Ed said apologetically.

"No, it's fine, Ed. Really, it is," the raven-haired man said, offering a smile as he ate another forkful of baked salmon. He wondered in that moment why Ed had been assigned to him instead of a professional. Tossing the thought aside, he said, "I didn't know you could cook."

"I didn't either. But how are you feeling?"

"Tired."

Throughout the meal, conversation was kept to a minimum. Roy was still rather weak and his tiredness limited his willingness to speak. After the meal, Ed cleared the table and surprising Roy, he asked if he needed anything. The raven-haired man shook his head, swallowing the medicine the doctor had prescribed, then said that he was going to take a shower. Roy smiled at the blond's concerned look, then said he would leave the bathroom door unlocked just in case.

Ed sat on the sofa, listening to the running water from the bathroom as he continued to read his book. As the minutes went by, he felt his eyes begin to droop and it wasn't long before he stretched himself out and dozed off, his book falling to the floor as his right arm dangled off the edge.

Running the towel through his damp hair and sporting a fresh pair of pajamas, Roy walked into the living room. Upon noticing the dozing blond, he wondered what to do. Should he wake him or let him sleep? He reached down to pick up the fallen book, setting it on the coffee table, then spent a few minutes simply watching the teen. He looked so peaceful. In fact, too peaceful to wake up.

Smiling, he pulled the throw-blanket from the back of the sofa and carefully draped it over the small body. He watched as the blond pulled the fleece cloth snugly around his body, curling up into a tight ball. Roy reached down, spending a brief moment in hesitation, then gently tucked a strand of fallen hair behind Ed's ear. In the simple, innocent movement, the palm of his hand had brushed against Ed's cheek. Oh, how soft it was beneath his skin.

A moment later, he was shocked to find himself leaning over the small body, his lips only an inch away from the soft skin that made up Ed's forehead. His eyes widened when he realized what he was about to do and he retreated at once, telling himself that the medicine he had taken earlier was the cause. He scurried into his room and crawled in his bed, heart racing (not good thing for someone in his condition). He buried himself under his blanket and wondered why he had done such a thing. He knew he couldn't blame it on the medicine, but for now, that would be his ultimate excuse.

He laid there for what felt like an eternity. For once, sleep seemed to be far from his reach. His mind was buzzing and racing with thought after thought, and now matter how much he willed it, it refused to calm.

Finally, after the eternity came to an impossible end, he dozed off. However, his mind still kept to the same topic: Ed. His dreams were racked with images and scenes of the blond.

He woke with a start, his heart beating wild, as one of the dreams became too...well...just too _raunchy_ not to wake up from. He couldn't figure out where this sudden spark of affection had come from. As the images and thoughts continued to torment him, he realized that he was very attracted the teen. He realized just how feminine Ed was: his long, blond hair, his fair complexion, his beautiful eyes of gold, even the slight curve of his hips.

He couldn't be attracted to Ed. No matter what features he happened to share with the opposite sex. He knew he just could not be attracted to another guy. Roy Mustang - Gay. Didn't have a nice ring to it. Roy Mustang - Woman Loving Machine. Now _that _had a nice ring to it. He just couldn't be attracted to someone of his own gender, especially someone like Ed.

But he knew that he was. And he realized that he wasn't just drawn in by the blond's strikingly beautiful appearance, but also by his natural concern for the world and mankind. He couldn't wrap his mind around it, but Ed had been showing a substantial amount of concern for him which was strange because he always thought he was despised by the blond. Now that he thought about it, it didn't seem real. Something was wrong with Ed, if that was even the real Ed sleeping on the sofa in the living room.

The following morning as warm golden rays drifted over his body, Ed opened his eyes. He looked around at the unfamiliar setting, taking a minute to realize where he was. He was surprised to find a blanket around him and figure that he probably just grabbed for it at some point in the night.

With a yawn, he slowly rose from his sleeping spot and ventured into the back of the house to check on Roy. Glad to see that the raven-haired man was fast asleep, he went into the guest bedroom where his things were. He unpacked his clothes, grabbed an outfit, and wandered into the bathroom for a nice, hot shower. He hoped the hot stream of water would help to loosen the knot in his back that had formed from his position on the sofa.

Once he dressed, he went back into Roy's room to check on him.

"Good morning," he said to the haggard-looking man in the bed. "Do you need anything?"

"A glass of water, if you don't mind."

Ed nodded, then turned to head into the kitchen. He came back shortly after, handing the tall glass of ice-cold water to the one who had asked for it.

Roy studied Ed, surprised to see that the blond owned clothing that wasn't black, leather, or black leather. The blond was wearing brown trousers and a long-sleeved, white shirt with a brown vest that matched his pants. His hair was pulled back in the same braid he was always seen with.

For the longest time, their gazes locked and he thought Roy was trying to see something deep inside him, something no one in the world could possibly see.

"I give up," Roy said, taking a sip of water then setting it on the nightstand.

"Wh-what?"

"I give up. Who are you and what have you done with Edward Elric?"

Confusion crossed his face, followed by concern. He reached out, placing his flash hand on Roy's forehead.

"Nope, no fever."

"I don't get it," he said slowly after a long pause. "Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?"

"I can't really say I know what you're talking about, Colonel. Acting like what?"

"All this show of concern and worry and taking care of me! You were the last person I'd expected to give a damn about me."

"Well I do," Ed said sharply, then left. He was upset that Roy never thought he would care. That was far from the truth. Ed couldn't see himself admitting it to the man, but the second he'd been told the frantic message that Roy had fallen ill, complete terror had invaded his mind.

The rest of the long day was spent in deadly silence. Neither of them really spoke aside from Ed asking if Roy needed anything and Roy replying. Even though Roy knew he had said something wrong earlier, something that had created the silence between them, he couldn't bring himself to apologize. He had never been that great at apologizing, admitting he had done something wrong or unjust. So the silence remained until the next morning.

The next morning, Roy did something he'd never thought he would do.

He couldn't stand staying in bed for another minute, so he decided to take a stroll through his house. He saw that the door to the guest bedroom was cracked open and he couldn't resist peeking inside. He saw Ed sitting at the dresser braiding his hair in front of the mirror, his body bathed in gold from the morning rays of sunlight.

Upon noticing Roy's intrusion, Ed stopped for a moment, expecting the man to say something or need something for him to do. When he didn't say a thing, just stepped in the room further, Ed shrugged and he continued to work on his braid. But he froze when he saw Roy appear in the mirror and his hands take his, stopping him from braiding it. So irresistible.

Roy took the black hair-tie off of Ed's slender wrist and slipped on his own. He ran his fingers from the top of Ed's head and all the way down, watching the braid come undone as his long fingers broke up the twists.

"Much better," he said softly, running his fingers once more through the long, soft hair. He left the room, leaving Ed with his jaw dropped and in shock and without another hair-tie.

Ed sat in front of the mirror for a long time. Several times he pulled his hair back, then let it loose over his shoulders in an attempt to find which way looked better. He was never really a vain person, but he began to wonder if Roy was right. And Ed found that he was.

He was about to improvise something to keep his hair back, but he was stopped when something beautiful met his ears. Entranced, he left his room and ventured into the living room to watch Roy's fingers dance on the row of black and white keys. Ed eased his way behind the raven-haired man, completely drawn in by the mix of notes.

Roy's eyes were closed as his fingers worked on their own, gliding back and forth over the keys. His feet worked on the pedals to sustain certain notes or soften them, creating music that was alive **(1)**.

The music softly faded into the air as Roy opened his eyes.

"Roy, that was beautiful," Ed breathed.

"I inherited it from my great-grandmother," Roy said, fondly fingering the black front of the piano. "She started teaching me how to play when I was three and kept teaching me until she drew her last breath."

"I'm surprised," Ed said with a smile.

"It relaxes me. You know? Takes me out of this world and brings me back to a happier time, an easier time."

"Could you...could you play another song?"

Roy nodded, more than happy to comply.

After that, the next week went by with ease. Roy didn't sleep as much and he often found himself sitting in front of the old piano, playing softly for Ed. And every time he played and earned Ed's praise, he felt something rise in him.

Living with Ed wasn't as bad as he had originally feared it would be. It wasn't what he had expected, but it wasn't bad. He found himself actually enjoying it. He enjoyed the blond's company. But what came with this enjoyed company was the confirmation of what he wanted to deny a few days ago. He knew that he had strong feelings for the blond, feelings he had never had before. He found himself wanting nothing more than to tell Ed what he felt in his heart. But little did he know, his heart would fail him again.

It was into middle of their third week living together when disaster struck again.

They were in the kitchen together, talking casually as Ed made lunch and Roy stood absently behind a chair at the table. He stopped mid-sentence, feeling lightheaded and dizzy. He grabbed the headrest on the chair as if his life depended on it.

Ed turned from what he was doing just in time to see Roy grab his chest and then fall to the hard floor with a loud _thud_.

"Roy!"

Ed quickly went to Roy's side and turned him on his back. Just like the nurses had instructed him to do, he checked Roy's breathing and pulse. He whitened at what he realized.

Roy didn't have a heartbeat.

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**(1) How can music be alive? Well, it's story time! Last year, we played a song in band called "Pavane For A Dead Princess" by Maurice Ravel. Okay, back when this song was first published and performed by an actual orchestra, at the end, Ravel himself went up to the pianist and supposedly said, 'This is Pavane For A Dead Princess, not Dead Pavane For A Princess.' He said this because the pianist was playing with no exaggerated crescendos or decrescendos, completely ignoring or not doing enough of dynamics. Anyone who knows music knows that dynamics make the music come alive. I'unno, just thought I'd tell a story that wasn't FMA or RoyEd :3**

**I'm hoping that last line will keep you peoples wanting more :3  
And yeah, yeah, I so didn't draw out all the emotions and whatnot.  
Anyway, please review!**

**Oh, and Roy playing piano? I highly doubt that's believable, but I was listening to classical music while I was writing and I just had to! Haha.**


	3. Three Beats For You

**Woot! Third chapter! Sorry my updates are so slow -sweatdrop- Anyway, hope you enjoy reading! Please review!**

**Oh, and there are several flashbacks in this chapter. They are in italics.**

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"What the hell's going on!?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but this information cannot go to you. The Fuhrer must know before anyone else," Dr. Fischer said, his aqua-green scrubs splattered with blood not his own. The doctor turned to walk away, but Hughes' voice, filled with worry and fear, stopped him.

"Will he be okay?"

Fischer froze, taking a few moments to gather his words, then turned to face the stricken man. His answer need not come in the form of words, for his reply was clearly read on the expression he wore. He bowed his head, a deep sigh warming the air, then sadly shook his head before turning to leave again.

Time stopped for Maes Hughes in that moment. He sunk into one of the uncomfortable chairs that lined the walls of the waiting room. Throughout his life, he'd been given plenty of bad news, but this...this was going to break him down. His heart was racing in his chest; it hadn't slowed from the moment he heard the wail from the ambulance and watched it race down the street from a very familiar residence.

He got there just as a flurry of doctors, nurses, and paramedics rushed the unconscious man in and a swollen-eyed teen trailed helplessly behind.

_"Ed, what happened?" Hughes asked, grabbing the blond's small shoulders._

_"I don't...I don't know. He just...just collapsed," Ed replied between heavy sobs, his entire body trembling uncontrollably._

_"What did you do?" he asked sharply. Ed had been assigned to take care of Roy, to make sure that he recovered, and Hughes needed someone to blame. He simply could not comes to terms that his best friend, one of the strongest men he knew, could fall so ill. It had to have been something Ed did._

_"N-nothing. It just happened."_

_"I knew the Fuhrer shouldn't have left him to _you_." __He wasn't sure what came over him, shot nerves maybe, but with his sharp words, he shoved the teen in the wall and stomped off to find someone who could tell him about his friend._

Hughes sighed as he thought about what he had done and what had happened because of it. He would have gone after him, but he dared not leave the hospital without knowing something.

He sat, unmoving, in that uncomfortable chair for hours, his eyes shifting constantly from the clock on the wall to the hallway in the hope that someone would come along to tell him what was happening. He was relieved though when several people he knew joined him in the waiting room, each face holding concern.

"What happened? Do you know? Is he okay?" the normally calm blonde asked as she sat in the chair next to Hughes.

"They haven't told me anything. They said they won't say a thing without the Fuhrer's permission."

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Fuery asked.

"I'd like to not think otherwise. I just wish I could get some damn answers around here," Hughes said through gritted teeth.

"Where's Elric?" Armstrong asked after a minute of silence. This question, unfortunately for Hughes, perked everyone's interest as they all gave him questioning looks.

"He...ran off," he replied slowly, then explained what had happened between them.

"Maes Hughes, you -" Riza was about to unleash a series of harsh, scolding words, but stopped when she spotted the Fuhrer and several soldiers walking down the hallway. They watched as their top superior talked with Roy's doctor, both occasionally looking into the waiting room at them. After quite some time, the Fuhrer left and Dr. Fischer entered the room.

"The Fuhrer wishes you not to be in the dark any longer," he said, casually pushing his thick glasses up on his nose. "We had to perform an emergency surgery on Colonel Mustang. His heart had stopped beating and he was really only be kept alive by manual means. He would have died had it not been for his caretaker. It was quite a chaotic scene in his chest. Colonel Mustang is what we in the medical field like to refer to as a _medical_ _mystery_."

"What do you mean?" Hughes asked.

"Well, somehow, his heart built another entry-way for blood. This is unheard of as far as I know and how this even occurred is beyond me. I suppose that this is why he had a heart attack. That heart attack signified the beginning of the new opening's construction. However, the moment that blood began to flow through it, it became too much for his heart to withstand and his brain immediately shut down his circulatory system. This shutdown damaged his heart severely, actually causing the left ventricle to collapse. In the surgery, we were able to repair the vein, but that new opening... I'm really quite stumped by it. How it happened and why are the questions I'm looking to answer. I've been consulting doctors all over the country and farther on this matter and I have no answers for it. For now, it just has to be closely monitored."

"Can we see him?" Riza asked.

"No, not for at least another day. We have him in Intensive Care and a nurse will be in the room with him at all times. I don't think it would be wise to have visitors just yet for he's in a very fragile state right now. He's too weak right now to even breathe on his own."

"But will he be okay?" the blonde woman asked, a slight quiver in her voice.

"I cannot say one way or the other. In his state, it's hard to tell. We'll just have to hope for the best." He nodded, then left the room for them to fully absorb their friend's condition.

When the day came that allowed them in Roy's room, Riza and Hughes were the first to go in. Though she was a very strong person, tears welled up in Riza's eyes the moment she saw Roy. He was lying in bed with a tube down his throat to make him breathe and an IV in his arm. His chest was open to them, showing them the bandage that covered the spot where he had been cut open and the stickers that were hooked up to the heart monitor.

Hughes took the unconscious man's hand in his own and squeezed it tightly. He smiled and told Roy that everything was going to be fine, that he was going to recover. Hughes held Roy's hand tightly in his while Riza said similar things. The doctor had told them beforehand not to expect any response from him, but he had been wrong. After a few minutes, Hughes felt the man give a weak squeeze back and his eyes opened slightly.

"Roy!" they both exclaimed, hopeful expressions marking their faces.

With his free hand, Roy made a gesture as like he was writing. Riza opened her purse, taking a pen and old receipt. She held the small paper as Roy scribbled something on it. When Hughes and Riza deciphered the writing (it looked like a blind two year old had written it), they had no clue how to respond. On the paper, Roy had written a simple, two-lettered name: Ed.

Hughes opened his mouth to answer, but Roy was already back in a deep sleep. They left the room with Hughes feeling extremely guilty.

"I don't think we should tell him," Hughes said.

"Then I suggest you should go out and find Edward," Riza said sharply. Hughes wasn't going to argue. He wouldn't have won that battle anyway.

As he walked down the sidewalk, he wondered where he would find Ed. He went to the most obvious place first, his house. Hughes was very disappointed in finding that the blond wasn't there. He _needed _to find Ed though, so from there he went to Headquarters, then to the public library, then perused around the sidewalks, and then he decided to try one last place before giving up.

He didn't bother with knocking and simply let himself in the house. The door was unlocked, and he knew immediately that there was someone there. He could hear random notes drifting through the house and as he stepped into the living room, he saw that Ed was sitting at the piano, his fingers drifting over the white and black keys.

"Edward?"

The blond froze and Hughes watched as he rubbed his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. Ed turned and he looked so sad that Hughes wanted to hold him in his arms and console him as he had done for his own daughter more than a few times. He stepped forward, slowly making his way towards the small teen.

"Edward, I'm sorry," he said. "I'm really sorry for what I did. I didn't mean it. I was just stressed out."

"You were right. It's my fault this happened. It's all my fault." Tears fell from the blond's eyes and heavy sobs escaped past his trembling lips.

"No, Ed, no, it's not." Hughes broke down, his instincts taking over, as he wrapped his arms around the teen and pulled him close against him. Hughes had decided a long time ago that he would watch over Ed and treat him as his own. He ran his hand over his back, letting him cry his heart out on his shoulder. "Please, Ed, come back with me. Roy wants to see you."

"M-me?" Ed pulled himself out of the fatherly man's arms to give him a questioning look.

"First thing he said...well, wrote. He wants to see you, Ed. Will you go back with me? For him?"

On the way back to the hospital, Hughes explained what the doctor had told them about the surgery and the new entry-way in Roy's heart. Ed tried to figure out why it had happened and how, but by the time they got to Roy's room, no reasonable answers had come to him.

In the room, Ed slowly made his way to Roy's side. A deep frown etched its way on his face as he looked down at the man.

"Hey, Roy," he said softly, his hand pushing black hair away from his face. He forced the corners of his lips to turn upwards into a smile. He couldn't bring himself to say anything, so he just stared at him, happy that he had the chance to do so.

After a few minutes, a nurse came in the room and made him and Hughes leave for her to tend to Roy. Ed knew that Roy would be happy in knowing that he had the same nurse from before except this time he got the highly-fantasized sponge bath.

A week went by in nail-biting worry when Roy opened his eyes again. Riza was the only one in the room and the first thing Roy did was made the writing gesture again. For the second time, Riza supplied him with a pen and paper and he scribbled on it. Again he wrote the simple name.

"Wait a minute, okay, sweetie?" She left the room and told Ed in the waiting room that Roy wanted to see him.

Ed walked in the room, black eyes falling on him. He smiled at the man and walked next to him, taking his hand in his own.

"Good afternoon, sleepyhead," Ed said softly. Ed simply stroked the back of Roy's hand until the doctor arrived to check on him now that he was conscious.

The doctor checked Roy's pupil's with a light and made him follow it with his eyes. He checked the monitor and IV bag. Ed watched as the doctor pulled the bandage on Roy's chest away and carefully examined the stitches.

"Colonel, when you get well enough to speak, I think you owe this young man your sincerest thanks," Dr. Fischer said as he placed a fresh bandage on the cut.

"Wha- Why?" Ed asked.

"You kept his blood flowing until the paramedics got there. If you hadn't done that, he would've died before coming close to this hospital."

_"Roy!"_

_Ed quickly went to Roy's side and turned him on his back. Just like the nurses had instructed him to do, he checked Roy's breathing and pulse. He whitened at what he realized._

_Roy didn't have a heartbeat._

_Ed scrambled to his feet and ran to the phone. With shaking hands, he dug into his pocket for the small strip of paper that held the important number on it. His fingers worked quicker than ever as he turned the rotary._

_"Help! Please! He's going to die! Roy's going to die!"_

_He left the plea at that, then dropped the phone to run back to Roy. His mind flew back to what the nurses had told him: Keep the blood flowing. He placed his hands over each other and commenced in driving his palms over Roy's chests, counting to ten, then breathing into Roy's mouth. Less than a minute, he started to ache, but he pressed on._

_"Please, Roy, please. Hang on," he pleaded among other words, his tears falling on Roy's cheeks. His mind reverted back to a time when he believed in a higher power, and he found himself praying to God to spare this man's life, to let him live._

Ed lowered his eyes as the man stepped toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You saved his life. Without you, he'd be dead."

"I just...did what I had to do," Ed said, looking past the doctor at the man in the bed looking wearily back at him.

"I hate to admit it, but I was wrong about you. Forgive me, but I protested on you volunteering to take care of him. But you did everything right. Better than anyone else who would've been there. Well, excuse me, but I have more patients to tend to. I'd like for you to leave for him to rest."

The next day, Ed returned to the room by himself. Roy was awake, his eyes wandering absently around the room until they settled on Ed.

"Hi, Roy," the blond said, smiling. He was glad that so far Roy was showing only improvement. Roy made a gesture and Ed took the new notepad from the nearby bedside table and handed it to him with a pen. 'U vol.?' it said in an almost illegible handwriting.

"Yes," Ed replied slowly, "I did volunteer. Dr. Fischer wanted someone trained to take care of you after your heart attack, so I went to the Fuhrer and practically had to beg to have the job."

Roy took the notepad back and scribbled something else. 'Y?'

"Well, in all the years I've known you, I've never actually _known _you. I thought this would be my chance for that." Heat rose to his face as his cheeks took on a pinkish color and he lowered his eyes in embarrassment to look at his hands in his laps.

What Roy scribbled on the paper made Ed chuckle lightly. Apparently, Roy was optimistic even in a hospital bed with a crack in his chest. It was a smiley face and above it, it read, 'I owe u.'

"Yeah, you do, so you've got to get better," Ed said with a smile. Roy gave a small nod, then closed his eyes to fall back to sleep.

Ed ran his fingers through Roy's hair, reminding him of when Roy had stopped him from braiding his. He hoped that Roy would get better, get back to his old-self again. He hoped the raven-haired man had a long life ahead of him. Roy was too young for what Ed feared might happen.

"How is he doing, doctor?" Riza asked later that day.

"As of right now, he's as fine as can be expected. It's a major improvement that he's been so responsive lately. But be prepared, this can all change at any moment," he warned. "But on a different note, I have discovered something quite intriguing about his heart. Follow me."

Riza, Hughes, and Ed followed the doctor to Roy's room. He was still asleep and stayed that way as the doctor removed the bandage from his chest and took his stethoscope from around his neck. He exhaled on the metal end then motioned for one of them to come forward. Hughes placed the ear buds in his ears and the doctor position the circular end on Roy's chest. Astonished, Hughes passed the stethoscope to Riza and the Ed listened.

"How is that possible?" Ed asked, handing the stethoscope back to the doctor.

"It's because of that new opening. His blood's passing through three openings with every beat to create three heart sounds instead of two."

"Is this good or bad?" Hughes asked.

"Well, it appears sometimes in people under 40, so a third heart sound isn't unheard of. However, because of why this third sound has been created, I can't say for sure if it's good or bad. For now, I will assume that it's good merely for the fact that it proves that the third opening is working."

They didn't know it but even though Roy's eyes were closed, his ears were open. He laid still and pretended to sleep as he listened to them talk about him. He found the third beat interesting and he felt incredibly unique in that moment.

Dr. Fischer left a few moments later and so did Riza and Hughes. Ed was the only to stay and he pulled up a chair next to the bed and watched the rise and fall of Roy's chest.

Roy opened his eyes and took the nearby notepad in his hand, scribbled on it, then flashed it at Ed who was watching him intently.

Ed's jaw dropped as he read the words and he looked at Roy in utter disbelief.

'I love you.'

_'The third beat in my heart is because of you. Two wasn't enough to love you with.'_

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**Hope you enjoyed reading!**

**I don't think the whole ordeal with Roy's heart is believable or is even real, but he is a "medical mystery." Keep that in mind.  
I do know that the third heart sound is real, as well as there being a fourth heart sound.**

**Anyway, please review! :D**


	4. I'm Already Heartbroken

**Ran into some trouble with this chapter. The dummy I am decided to think about the content for the chapter after this one, so when I began writing this chapter, I found that I was short about 2,000 words (I aim for 3,000-4,000 every time). It's very obvious that this happened, because some of the content in this is really...random. Anyway, hope you enjoy reading! Please review! :)**

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It took all he had to get air in his lungs as his eyes moved from the paper to the man who'd written the words. He couldn't believe it. Then, as his gaze left the man's, he followed the clear tube that ran from his arm and up to a bag where droplets of liquid were slowly dripping down to enter his bloodstream.

"Y-you're just... It's just the medicine talking. Yeah, that's it. You're just a bit _loopy_. Yes, yes," he said uneasily, deeming drugs as the ultimate excuse for Roy's sudden affection. Besides, he _knew _Roy could never love him.

Roy gave him such a look, a look brimming with despair. He couldn't bear to look into those eyes a moment longer, and as he felt the walls of the room close in on him, claustrophobia seizing him, he began to take large steps back.

"I'm s-sorry, Roy. I-I have to go," he said, backing out of the room and gently shutting the door behind him. He stayed leaned against its cold metal surface for several minutes. With a deep and shaky breath, he pushed himself away from the door and staggered down the hall. His knees felt so incredibly weak and his mind flew ahead of him. He just needed to sit down and take a moment to recompose himself.

He sunk into the ripped leather with a leaden sigh, burying his head in his hands as he hunched over. He wondered how true Roy's written words were. He wondered if there was the possibility of affection from the man.

His mind was buzzing with thoughts and question and annoyingly started a pounding in his head. He pinched the bridge of his nose, which annoyingly made him think of Roy because he'd seen him do the same thing many times before. He wanted to scream. How good that would feel!

Once the headache grew into something too much to bear, he was able to sweet-talk a nurse into giving him aspirin. Again, he sunk into the chair in the waiting room. He leaned his head against the headrest of the chair and closed his eyes.

For the next two days, he made the waiting room his home. He never went to see Roy and Roy never asked to see him. However, once the doctor removed the tube from Roy's throat, granting him the power of verbal communication, he sternly (and very weakly) said he wanted to see Ed. No one else; just him.

"H-hey," the blond said uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Sit," Roy said, pointing at the chair. His voice was soft and raspy from misuse, but his words still held the sharpness it always had when he gave a command.

Ed kept his head bowed, a strange feeling of guilt washing over him. He wasn't sure why he felt so guilty, but he knew that's what he was feeling; he knew that guilt was the cause for the unbearable burn that shadowed his heart and mind.

"Edward, thank you."

The blond lifted his gaze at the unexpected words, his eyes meeting those so oppositely colored than his own. His eyebrows came together in companionship to the questioning glance.

"Thank you," Roy repeated. "Isn't that what Dr. Fischer told me to say?"

Ed smiled, despite the unease and guilt he still felt. Perhaps he felt guilty because he hadn't embraced Roy's words of affection two days ago.

"I'm sorry too," the raven-haired man said, his voice already getting stronger.

"Sorry for what?"

"For what I'm about to say. I know you must still be freaked out from the other day, but you _have _to know." He spent a few moments simply gazing into the blond's eyes, admiring the way they twinkled like the jewels of the night. "I love you, Edward. I know it must seem strange to you, but believe me, I had the worst time trying to figure it out for myself. Listen, I'm not asking for you to say anything back or for you to instantly fall in love with me, but I do have something I'd like for you to do."

Ed nodded, not trusting his voice to speak for him.

"Will you sing for me? Well, hum. Just until I fall back asleep. You remember the first song I played for you, don't you?"

Ed nodded again and was surprised when he found himself humming the beautiful tune Roy had played on his piano. But what surprised him, shocked him, even more was when he felt Roy's hand weasel itself in his hand and he squeezed it tightly.

Moments later, he felt Roy's hand lose its grip and he smiled at seeing his closed eyes. Ed placed the man's hand at his side and chewed on his bottom lips as he looked down at his dozing body.

"I don't...I don't know, Roy," he whispered. "I've always had feelings for you, but I don't think it's ever been love. Or maybe I'm so madly in love with you that I just don't know it. But whether I love you or not, I will always care for you and be there when you need me. I promise."

With those words, he followed Roy's example and nodded off.

Hours later, he opened his eyes and immediately locked gazes with a set of dazzling onyx. He looked at Roy, noting that he looked younger than before. He offered a smile to the man, then saw that Roy's hands were clasped together with one thumb pinning the other.

"Uh...what are you doing?" Ed asked.

"I'm winning, 8-to-2," he replied with a satisfied smirk. Of course, Roy was a master at entertaining himself even though half the time it made him appear a bit _unbalanced_ to other people.

"You've been having thumb wars with yourself?" Ed raised an eyebrow, leaning forward in his chair.

"No, that would be crazy and I am _not _crazy...yet."

"But how do you know if you've won?"

"If my right thumb pins down my left."

"But can't you just always make it so that your right thumb pins down your left?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because that's cheating, and besides, Mr. Left is a very formidable foe. If he didn't have a hangnail in his head, then he would be winning!"

"You're crazy!"

"No, just insane." Roy smiled and they both ended up sharing a laugh.

"I can't help it though. It gets so boring here! I wish I could just go home now," the raven-haired man said with a soft sigh.

"I'll see if I can bring you some books or something."

"That would be great! Mr. Left is a sore loser and I don't care too much for his poor sportsmanship, and Righty could use a break anyway. But until then, do you think you could beat Righty?"

"I bet I could," Ed said.

They engaged in a thumb-on-thumb battle as if they were schoolkids on the playground at recess. The simple game entertained them for a full hour, also entertaining Hughes and Riza as they stood in the door watching them.

"Having fun?" Hughes asked once their battle was over and Ed was announced as winner for the seventh time.

"Insanity's always fun," Roy said.

"We came by to let you know ahead of time that the Fuhrer will be coming to check on you and Dr. Fischer will be coming around too for some tests," Riza said.

"How do you all know what's going to happen before I do?"

"The nurses," Riza said simply.

Within that hour, the Fuhrer, with his personal guards standing in the hall, entered Roy's room.

"Colonel Mustang, I'm glad to see you are well," he said.

"I am honored by your concern, sir," Roy said.

"Dr. Fischer has informed me that you are recovering and I see that he was right." He gave an approving nod, his eyes carefully scanning Roy's body and all the machines he was hooked up to. A bit of surprising casual conversation commenced between the two, then the Fuhrer said his good-byes and left with entourage.

Having been pushed out of the room with the Fuhrer's arrival, Ed walked back in and took his spot at Roy's side.

"You win, Roy," the blond said softly.

"Huh?"

"I can't... I don't understand any of this. You've succeeded in confusing the hell out of me."

Ed's eyes widened when Roy's hand brushed against his cheek.

"What do you feel right now? Are you silently screaming for me to stop? Or do you want me to keep going?" He traced the teen's jawline, gently seizing his chin to tilt his head back slightly, his thumb softly brushing over his bottom lip.

"When? When did you start having these feelings for me?" the blond asked, pulling Roy's hand into his own and stroking his knuckles.

"The first week you were with me," he replied. He decided to take a gamble just then. "I know you love me too. Or if it's not love, then it's pretty damn close."

"What makes you say that?"

"The way you're holding my hand in yours. But it's not just that. You _volunteered _to stay with me, you sent me a rose, you took excellent care of me and never once cocked an attitude with me about anything I asked you to do. But there's something more than all of that. Something that has really told me all that I needed to know. It's the way you look at me, Ed. And even now I can see the shimmer of love, of hope, in your eyes. When our gazes lock, I can see into your soul. I can see exactly what you feel even though you yourself don't know it. You're in love, Edward. In love with me."

"Roy, I..." His voice trailed off, unsure of what to say. He felt his eyes begin to sting and damn it, he then felt something wet slide down his cheek. He bowed his head, his tears falling on the back of Roy's hand.

"Edward, why are you crying?"

"Because you're right. You're completely right and I've been lying to myself about it. Even now I can't bring myself to say that I -"

Roy pulled his hand out of the blond's, placing his index finger at his lips to hush his words. He lifted Ed's head for their gazes to meet. With a kind smile, he said, "Ed, don't worry about it. I understand. Hell, at first I couldn't admit that I had feelings for you either. You don't have to tell me that you love me or anything like that. Just so long as you keep to your promise, then that's enough for me."

"What promise?"

"You promised that you would always care for me and be there when I need you, regardless of whether you loved me or not. Did you really mean that?"

"Of course," Ed said softly, his eyes sliding shut as Roy wiped away the tears on his cheeks.

"And don't worry, Ed, if you find out that you don't love me or want nothing to do with me like that, it's not like I'm not already heartbroken."

Ed laughed lightly, remembering when the doctor let him listen to Roy's third heartbeat.

"I must be getting old," Roy said with a yawn, followed by a sharp gasp.

"What's wrong?" the blond asked urgently.

"It's nothing. Just a bit a pain, that's all. It hurts sometimes. My chest, that is. Hurts to talk and move and apparently yawn."

"Wait, you've been talking this whole time even though it hurts? You shouldn't have! Y-"

"Oh, be quiet, it doesn't hurt that bad. It's actually a comfortable pain when I'm talking. It's a good reminder that I'm not done yet. Anyways, will you -"

"Yes," Ed said softly, then began to hum like last time. It wasn't long before Roy fell into some other world.

Ed stayed next him while he slept, his mind buried in thoughts of the future, of the them. He kept asking himself if he wanted a life with the other man.

An hour later, Dr. Fischer walked in the room with Roy's assigned nurse. Before Ed could ask why they both had masks over the faces, the nurse shooed him out of the room. As he was pushed into the hallway, he noticed that every nurse and doctor walking about had a white mask on.

He waited and waited outside Roy's room, but when the doctor and nurse walked out, the nurse taped a piece of paper to the door: No visitors allowed.

"Hey, what's this?" Ed asked the nurse, pointing to the paper.

"Sorry, sir, but no one except medical personnel can see Colonel Mustang until this terrible bug moves out of Central."

"Terrible bug?" Ed could hear patients coughing down the hall and that was all it took for him to understand.

As the days went by, the number of coughing patients increased, and because of this, they weren't allowed to visit Roy any longer for fear that he would catch the virus from one of them and his immune system still wasn't quite where it needed to be to fight it off.

Ed, once again, made the waiting room his home. Everyone tried to make him go home and stay home, but he wasn't going to leave the hospital unless he was leaving with Roy next to him. He did, however, go home only long enough to take a shower, change his clothes, and eat a quick something.

He spent most of his time reading books he'd gotten from Roy's bookcase and when he wasn't doing that, he often found himself thinking about the raven-haired man and his words of affection. In a way, this separation from the man was a good thing for he was finally able to sort out his feelings and make a firm decision on how he felt for the man. He decided that at the first chance he got, he would tell Roy exactly how he felt. He found himself restless with the need to tell Roy how he felt.

The small blond was intently reading a mystery-murder book from Roy's when a commotion down the hall made him wrench his head up. He heard a nurse shout and something metal fell to the floor. Curious, he stood up to peek out the doorway. His heart dropped when he saw that all the commotion was coming from Roy's room at the very end of the hallway.

In a fit of panic, he ran for the room, desperately needing to know if the raven-haired man was okay. But he only got a glimpse of the man, because two other doctors had to hold him back and forced him away. He shoved into a chair and then Roy's assigned nurse came from behind the men to explain what was happening.

"He caught that bug," she explained. "The antibiotics we gave him did reduce his fever a bit, but it also gave him hallucinations. He kept saying something about Ishbal. No surprise given his military past with the Eastern Rebellion. But we had to sedate him before he caused harm to himself or one of the staff members. Dr. Fischer is going to keep him closely monitored for now."

"The antibiotics, will they get rid of what's ailing him?"

"That's what they're supposed to do, but we seem to be having some problems with that. He's been fighting this for the past two days and we've had to give him antibiotics five times, but his body rejects them each time. It's not that the medicine isn't working, it's that it's not working as well as it should. I'm sure if you were to get sick with this and we gave you the medicine, then you would recover only a day or so later. With the colonel, however, it only helps him with one thing and that's usually only the fever."

"Is he in pain?" Ed asked, remembering how much it hurt the man to simply yawn.

"We have him on a slow drip of morphine to help that, but he can't have too much of it because of his heart's condition. However, the sedative we gave him has probably made it painless for him to sleep. A good thing, that is."

"Thank you."

"I'll be sure to keep you updated. You must really care about him, don't you? You're in this room everyday. I think you deserve to be told what's going on," she said with a smile, then nodded before returning to her work.

Ed sighed deeply, his nerves shot beyond repair. With shaking hands, he picked up his book and flipped through the pages to find where he had left off.

_'Roy, you better get well again so that I can tell you that I do love you,' _he thought, hoping the words would find themselves in Roy's dreams.

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**I hope that the emotion in this chapter is believable and I know a lot of you readers don't care too much for saptastic content, so sorry if you found it too sappy. But if you found this chapter distasteful (hopefully not the case!) in an emotional/sappy sense, then the next chapter is definitely not for you.**

**But anyway, I should mention that by saying Roy caught a bug, that simply means he got sick. Where I live, it doesn't matter what's wrong with you, you just caught a little bug or a cold. It's nothing serious like...um...malaria or cholera. Just a cold, that's all. Wanted to be clear. Hehe.**

**Please review! Oh, and thanks sooooo much for all the reviews and whatnot thus far. As of right now (3:52 p.m. on 12/22/08), this fic has 41 reviews and 994 Hits. Very proud!**


	5. Fight Or Give Up

**Sorry (again) for the late update! Please read and review! Oh, Roy's feverish in the beginning, and for those of you who don't know, even though your body temperature rises, you begin to shiver and get cold and whatnot. It's how the body counteracts the extreme heat or something like that. It's been awhile since Biology I. Anyways, read!**

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_'So cold...'_

His body shivered, sending waves of pain throughout his entire body, the worst of it landing on his chest. He couldn't see straight, hadn't been able to for days it seemed. He hated what he had become. So pitiful and weak, such a disgrace to his former self and mankind. The only thing that was keeping him alive was his willingness to live, if not his own stubbornness not to die. The truth was, he was beginning to tire from the battle and he wasn't sure how long he could keep going. Oh, how great it would feel, what a wonderful relief it would be, just to sink into that welcoming abyss that called out to him from time to time.

But deep down inside he knew he had to keep fighting. He had to, needed to, live so that one day his life could be shared with another. There were, after all, so many things he hadn't done yet. Once upon a time, marriage and children were on the list of things to do, but with his new found love for a certain uterus-absent blond, those items were quickly scratched off. As the topic of his mortality dug itself in his mind, he began to think of that list and began counting what things he had to live for to accomplish.

_'Swimming in the ocean...Climbing to the peak of the world's largest mountain...Why is it so cold in here!?...Travelling out of this country and into one I've never seen before...What's that country across the ocean? I don't remember...Digging for buried treasure on some beach. Just for fun...I can't take it anymore! I'm freezing!...Oh, screw it. I can't even think like this any longer...But...Falling in love...Isn't that the one I always said I had to do?...Isn't that the one that's at the top of my priority list?...I don't even know if he loves me back...I can't...He doesn't...What if all of this fighting turns out to be for nothing? Is it okay for me to give up? It hurts so bad...I'm in so much pain right now...It burns, but I'm so cold...I hate this...'_

Roy screwed his eyes shut as an intense pain hit him. His fingers tightened around the thin sheet under him, acting as his only anchor to keep his consciousness. The morphine that dripped into his bloodstream did little, but he never told anyone how it was failing him. He wanted to fight this by himself, without drugs. So tough, he was. But the pain that hit his heart like a thousand pointed pins was beginning to come to him frequently and he couldn't deny that it hurt like hell. He pictured the pain like the hot flames of Hell reaching up from beneath the soil and wrapping around his entire body, the intense heat sinking into his broken heart.

It would be so easy just to stop fighting and give in! So easy to let the flames pull him under!

He sighed softly as the pain dulled away to a bearable level, turning his head to gaze longingly out the large window. The stars were blotted out by the strong lights of the bustling nightlife of the city, but the moon was large and full, refusing to be overthrown by the technology of human society.

_'I want to go home,' _he thought somberly, sinking his head into the pillow and closing his eyes in an attempt to sleep. He was so much better off in the false reality of the dreamworld. He was slowly becoming dependent on the dreams that visited him for they gave him a place where pain and sorrow were nonexistent. They sheltered him from reality and all the problems that came with it, but only for a little while.

Roy drifted off minutes after closing his eyes and relaxing his mind. As his real body slept, his dream-self woke.

He opened his eyes to a cool breeze and sweet scent in the air. He was surrounded by pink and yellow flowers and ahead of him, sunlight danced on the lazy waves of a lake, the water stirred by the gentle breeze that played with his black hair.

He looked up at the clear blue sky. Not a cloud in view. As he took a deep breath, the fresh air tingling in his throat, he was relieved to find not a pinch of pain run through him. But when he closed his eyes to savor every bit of this paradise, he felt something warm envelope him. He opened his eyes to find a dazzling smile that made him smile in return. The small hand cupped his cheek lovingly and he sighed deeply, warmly. He was being tightly embraced in the arms of Edward Elric. But how cruel it was that this paradise was far from reality.

Roy opened his mouth to speak, but found that he could get no words to pass his parted lips. That was okay though, because here no words were needed to show love and care. He thought he was going to die with delight when the blond's soft lips pressed against his own. But once again, how cruel it was that this paradise was far from reality.

In the moment that their lips parted, the real Roy Mustang opened his eyes to meet the smile of a red-lipped nurse and the golden rays of the morning sun.

"Good morning, Colonel. How are you feeling? Did you sleep well last night?" she asked. Her names was Susan and she had been taking care of Roy since his heart attack ages ago.

Because it hurt too much to talk now, he simply nodded and she smiled at him as her fingers scribbled down all his stats for the doctor to read later.

"Edward told me to tell you good morning and that he hopes you're feeling well," she said. She was a kind and very compassionate woman, so she had no qualms about passing messages from the separated men even though the only message Ed got from him was how he was doing as far as what the doctor told the nurse.

Roy gave a small smile in response, then sunk his head deeper into the pillow, his eyes sliding shut. He was so sad, drowning so deeply in sorrow. He would give anything, if not to go back home, just to see him, to see Edward.

"Colonel," Susan said slowly, "he cares about you a lot. I'm not sure just how much, but he's here every day and every night. Six days and nights he's been sitting on the edge of his seat waiting for me to tell him about you. I've been working in this hospital for fifteen years and I've seen many things, but never have I seen such concern and hope in a person's eyes."

"I want to see him," the raven-haired man said, his voice hardly above a whisper. He watched hopefully as the nurse considered his request, chewing on her bottom lip. She could lose her job by letting an unauthorized person in a patient's room and in Roy's fragile state, the consequences could be heavier than just a lost job. Besides that, she had no clue how she was going to get Ed past the other staff members of the hospital, but as she looked down at the man, she knew she had to give him something to lift his spirits.

"I'll try, Colonel, but trying is all I can do," she said, offering him a smile. Once again, Roy closed his eyes and she took that as her cue to leave.

She kept to her word and tried to find ways to get the apprehensive blond in Roy's room, but as the days went by, the chance for it faded. But not only did the chances fade, so did Roy's health. The combination of the cold and the recent heart surgery was taking a major toll on him. Upon noticing his declining health, Dr. Fischer made the special call to the Fuhrer and told him the news. Getting permission from the important man, the doctor also told Roy's friends.

Ed, Hughes, Hawkeye, Armstrong, Havoc, Fuery, Breda, and Falman all stood in the waiting room in shock. _"I regret to inform you, but it's not good as of now. His life is fading away." _Those were the despairing and dreaded words the doctor had spoken before leaving them to wallow in their grief. The usually calm and collected woman broke down in instant tears, the father of one pulled her close and tried to tell her that their friend was going to pull through, and the rest of them just sat there trying to think of what life would be like without Roy Mustang. Ed, however, clenched his fists in anger. He was sure who he was mad at: the doctor for telling them that and failing to do his job, himself for not having done something, or Roy for being so damn sick.

Hours passed by, but all of them stayed, expecting to hear the worst of news at any moment. Ed looked at the clock on the wall which told him that it was just past midnight. As he looked around the waiting room at the group of familiar faces, he noted that he was the only one awake. He was sliding his eyes shut to join them in their slumber, but someone at the door of the waiting room motioned frantically at him. It was Susan.

Careful not to wake anyone, Ed walked out into the hallway with her. Silently, he followed her down the hall. She opened the door to Roy's room, gestured for him to enter.

"Won't you get in trouble?" he asked in a whisper.

"We can talk later," Susan replied and gently pushed him through the threshold, closing the door.

Ed swallowed as he slowly stepped forward towards Roy. The anger he felt from before dissipated as he took Roy's hand in his own, the man's eyes opening at the touch.

"Hi," the blond said softly.

"Edward, you're here," Roy said in a whisper, his face twisting slightly in response to the sharp pain in his chest.

"Of course." He had to fight back the flood of tears that was building up in his eyes, a fight he knew he would lose at any moment.

"Listen, we need to talk."

"I love you, Roy," the blond said suddenly, squeezing Roy's hand tightly. "I've spent a lot of time thinking about it and I do love you. I know it's love too."

Despite the pain that racked his body and mind, Roy managed to smile brightly. "Good, now I won't sound like an idiot. You've learned your lesson, right? With alchemy?" Ed followed his gaze to his artificial arm and nodded.

"Why?"

"I don't...I don't want you to suffer again, Ed," the raven-haired man said, his voice faltering from pain.

"What are you talking about?" Ed forced a smile, his vision blurring from the tears that had formed before his eyes. "Everything's going to be fine, Roy. You and I will go home together, hand in hand."

"I'm not stupid," Roy said softly after a deathly silence. "I know I'm dying, Ed. I feel it. Soon, Edward, soon."

"Don't say that! You're not going to die! You can't...You..." He broke down as his voice faded, wet beads trailing down his cheeks and a sob escaping his throat.

"I can't fight it anymore."

"But you have to, Roy, you have to keep fighting! Please!"

"I don't want to fight it anymore. I just...just want the pain to end." He had to look away from the blond's wet face. He couldn't bear the sight.

With his gaze turned away from the sobbing teen, the harsh reality of it all hit him and hit him hard. He felt his own eyes begin to sting and moments later, he felt the tears run down his cheek. He cast his gaze at Ed, his own sobs joining the blond's. Roy grabbed his arm.

"Don't let me die here," he pleaded, tightening his grip on Ed's shoulder to help with the pain that shrouded his heaving chest. "Please, not here."

He expended all of his energy in his tears and soon cried himself to sleep. Ed rubbed his eyes, sniffling as he rose. He leaned over Roy's still body, his face twisted in pain and cheeks stained with tears. "I love you, Roy, and no matter what happens, I always will," he whispered, leaning down to place a chaste kiss on the man's forehead.

With a deep and shaky sigh, Ed left the raven-haired man to sleep in peace, stepping out into the hallway where Susan was. Immediately she noticed his swollen, red eyes and frowned at the teen, taking his arm and pulling him away, leading him into the empty staff lounge.

"Thank you," Ed said softly.

"I would never be able to forgive myself if I wouldn't have done that."

"What do you mean?"

"I have three children: two daughters and a son. All teenagers. I know when someone is hurting or is in love. I know when someone is dying to say something. I knew that you had something to say, and were you able to tell him? Did you get to tell him that you love him?"

"Yes," he whispered, eyes downcast, "but he...he's at an end. He told me that he wants to stop fighting. Give up. He wants to _die_."

"It's saddening, I know. I've encountered so many people in this place, those who want death and those who want to stay as far as possible from it. You have to understand something though: it's his choice to fight or give up. The only thing you can do is be there for him. In the end, if he stops fighting, don't let him go alone." She placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder and offered a kind smile.

"But how am I...How _can _I just let him give up like this? I can't do it."

"Then fight for him, Edward."

The next day Roy opened his eyes and glanced around the room. He wondered if his conversation with Edward was real or a dream. It seemed real, but he couldn't believe that he had seen him and whats-more, that Ed had told him that he loved him. He realized just how blurred his lines of reality and fiction were.

Not long after he awakened, the nurse walked in with a tray of food. She gave him the normal, bright smile and sat in the chair next to him with the tray in her lap. As he looked down at the food, he noticed that there was a folded piece of paper resting between the bowl of broth and cup of fruit.

"Not until after you eat," she said after following his gaze. Curious as to the contents of the paper, he didn't fight at all as she carefully placed spoonful after spoonful of broth in his mouth.

Setting the empty tray aside, she praised him and handed him the mysterious letter. He slowly unfold it and started to read, but found that his eyes couldn't focus on the small handwriting, his vision blurred from the morphine in his blood and his tiredness. He frowned, but she smiled and gently took the letter out of his hands.

"It's from Edward," she said. "Do you want me to read it to you?" Roy nodded. She cleared her throat, then read, "My dearest Roy, not a day goes by that I don't feel your pain. Being separated from you has weighed heavy on my heart, but I'm thankful for this separation because it's given me time to think. Like I told you last night, I do love you. I don't know if we'll be able to meet again like last night, so I'm saying this now. We can't waste this love we share, Roy. I'll help you fight this, so we can spend the rest of our lives together. I want to wake up every morning to your beautiful songs. I want to spend every day in your arms. I want you, Roy. Forever yours, Edward."

Susan folded the letter back and passed back to Roy for his safekeeping. Slowly, she rose from the chair and took the tray in her hands. Just as she was about to open the door and leave, she turned back to him and said, "Don't give up yet, Roy. You have too much to live for." With those words, she left, leaving Roy with a buzzing mind.

_'So it wasn't a dream. He does love me. But still, it's so easy to give in, to stop the pain. Damn, it hurts just to think! I can't keep going on like this. I can't see any other end to this except darkness, everlasting darkness. I just...just want to stop hurting. But dammit, I want to live. For Hughes. For Riza. For Armstrong. All of them! Now, I _have_ to live for him, for Edward. For my Edward.'_

A true smile danced on his lips as he gazed up at the same ceiling he'd been staring at for weeks. He placed his hand, still holding Ed's note, lightly on his chest and was able to feel the additional beat to his heart. For the first time in a very long time, he didn't want to drift off into that second reality.

He spent the time until noon simply staring at the ceiling and thinking of the life he could--no, _would_--have with Edward once this was all over. But as every tick of the hands on the clock echoed in the still room, he found it harder and harder to breathe for each breath he took, the pain in his chest grew.

His chest heaved as he lost control of his breathing, the pain exploding in his chest with every expansion of his lungs. The heart monitor he was attached to began to echo his heart beat; it was fast, too fast to be good. He gripped the handrails of the bed tightly, Ed's note clenched in his fist, as he fought for just one moment to breathe and to stop coughing so violently. His head began to spin and world darken around him. He was putting all of his might in keeping consciousness. What a joke!

_'My only regret is not falling in love with you sooner,' _he thought, then let himself fall into the welcoming folds of darkness.

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**Originally, this was supposed to be the last chapter, but I changed it half way through. One or two more chapters left! Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading! Comments are always welcomed!**


	6. Reality And Dreams

_'What is this place? Everything's so white, so pristine. Virginal. Is this Heaven? No, that can't be right. But I'm dead, aren't I? What is this then? If I'm still able to form thoughts and images in my mind, then surely I can't be gone yet. But it doesn't hurt anymore. I don't feel a pinch of pain. How could this be? Maybe this is some form of punishment, some part of the promised afterlife that's guaranteed in the texts and ancient scripts. If so, then what afterlife is this? Where am I? Heaven, Hell, purgatory, the bowels of nothingness, in Leto's arms, maybe Ishbal? How ironic that would be. What a perfect punishment too. But where am I? And why is everything so white? Why is...Wha...This isn't right?...Thi-'_

Roy's eyes snapped open, forcing him out the most peculiar and realistic dream, as the sound of gunfire rang in his ears, quickly being followed by a whirlwind of screams. He jumped out of his cot and bolted out of his tent to meet the fury and havoc of an ambush. He saw his men fall as bullets ripped through their bodies, the triggers being pulled by browned fingers.

"No one hurts my men," he yelled, snapping his fingers to eliminate the enemy. The alchemist watched as each red-eyed man was engulfed by a snaking flame. More screams filled the air. The smell of burnt hair and skin met his nose. He found himself wondering when exactly had he gotten used to the nauseating stench.

He helped count the numbers of men lost and gathered the bodies, some of which were charred beyond recognition. One man even crumbled in his hands as he tried to drag him to the pile of dead Ishbalans. His heart sank in his boots, tarnished with mud and blood, as he stared down at what little remained of the man. Flecks of soot, of burned skin and sinew, danced in the air around him and his gloves were covered in the dark, menacing matter. Eyes narrowing and with a leaden sigh, he went back to his tent, deciding that he couldn't stomach it any longer.

Roy stripped off his soiled clothing, exchanging them for something semi-clean, then settling himself back down in his cot, gazing at the canvas ceiling of his tent.

"That was all...a dream?" he asked aloud, remembering the dream. "It felt so real. The pain and...the love. The love? Edward Elric, who are you? _What _are you? Are you real or were you just a dream too? Maybe I just don't remember you anymore. Maybe this whole damn war has finally pushed me to insanity." A dark laugh chased after his words and after that, he felt his eyes begin to sting. "Oh, it feels like I've been stabbed in the heart and someone's pulling my ribs apart at the same time."

Every single word said, every touch, every smell and feeling from that dream flooded into his mind with such untainted perfection that it brought him over the brim. Tears fell from the corner of his eyes and he sat up in the cot, drawing his knees to his chest and hiding his face between them. He was such a damn wreck. The constant screams, the bloodshed, his murderous art. And now that dream. That fucking dream. He didn't understand why even in his own dreams, his only escape from reality, his life was filled with such ruin. Being as healthy as an ox one day, then falling so ill. Falling so deeply in love and having it fall down so suddenly in the form of more pain, maybe even death. His mind was beyond understanding and as he fought to find an answer, some shimmer of hopeful light to his dark world, he found that could find nothing. His mind was complete emptiness; only death, pain, and sorrow resided there. For him, it was better to shrug away thoughts and dreams, because now, all that was there was darkness. Absolute darkness.

"Edward," he sobbed, his voice muffled in his knees.

Such a simple name: Edward. Two syllables, six letters, two vowels, and four consonants. Why was there... How _could _there even exist such tremendous power in such a simple name? That power was so strong that it made his heart ache merely for the simple fact that he didn't know who this Edward was. He didn't know why he loved this person so much, someone he had never laid eyes on except in that dream.

Roy stretched himself out on the cot, his eyes red and swollen and his vision blurred as he stared back up again at the bland ceiling.

"I'm such a disgrace," he muttered, holding his hands up in the air. "Such fucking excuse for a man. Pathetic. I don't even...I don't even know what's real anymore. This whole thing must be some damn dream. What a nightmare." He draped his right arm over his eyes, his left falling on his stomach.

As he laid there a familiar scent hit his nose, and he knew that just outside the boundaries of camp the dead were being sent away. He could picture it so vividly. The men piled one on top of the other, stacking up to four feet, maybe higher. Dry blood outline their lips, their eyes open to show all who looked into the dull color their blatant fear, and their mouths stuck in an eternal scream. After being arranged, a short prayer of mercy from God would be given, then the men would be doused with gasoline, and soon would be dissolved in the flames. It was all to stop the spread of disease, but Roy just found it sickening. He'd killed, blindly _murdered_, countless men with fire and even after their deaths, they still had to suffer the licking heat.

He rolled over on his side, burying the image with his guilt. He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to hush the roar of screams that echoed in his mind from all that he had done, the smell of burning flesh uncovering such horrid memories.

"No, no, no, no." Roy curled himself up into a tight ball, his fingers pulling at his black locks. A blood-curdling scream ripped itself from his throat as images and memories built upon each other. His sobs and pleas for forgiveness filled the air. He was broken. Shattered. Finally fallen through the delicate glass of his insanity.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed in the pitiful state, his quivering voice calling out his murderous sins as tears trailed down his cheek. He did, however, remember the last thing he saw in his mind before drifting off and he would kill a dozen men if it meant the image being forever erased. It was of him standing in some forsaken place, the sun high overhead and unforgiving as it beat down on his body. Before him stood the enemy, but this enemy wasn't at all like the others. He knew this person, but that didn't matter. Like every sorry bastard that crossed his path, he snapped his fingers and sent the boy's body to swim in a pool of fire. That boy was the mysterious being from his dreams. That boy was Edward, and the scream that followed the snap made Roy regret his own pathetic existence.

Hours later, he opened his eyes with a sigh that, despite its softness, painfully tugged his heart. He rolled out of the cot and dressed himself in his military garbs, then headed out to continue the bloodshed. Don't think, just act. That was how he was trained and he obediently followed that simple rule like the loyal dog he was. That was why he went on the field every day and snapped his fingers alongside the other alchemists. That little rule was the reason why he continued burning harmless villages to nothingness, including all the innocent people residing in them.

He was at a true end. A rope without a knot, so he would only keep falling.

As he trudged forward, joining his comrades, his world shied away from him like it always did. When he went out to annihilate the villages, he blocked everything out so that he could kill without a moment of hesitation or question. But he could only block the world out for so long, because it always came back to him in a flood.

Half the memories that resided in his mind, he couldn't recall having done and that's what made it so hard. The more he fought, the more memories and images he had to deal with later. The future, how ever close it was, always proved to be harder than the present. And the past, no matter how far away, was _always _harder to deal with, to accept, than the future or present. He found it funny though, because the future became the present and the present became the past, so there really could be no judgement as to what tense of time was harder to handle. It was all the same. Just time. Time that one day would stop for him. Or maybe it already had.

Roy scanned the landscape for signs of the enemy, but could find nothing. It was just a small village that they had already destroyed, but they had been told to return to it. They had been told before leaving the camp that they hadn't done a good enough job at destroying the place the first time. The higher-ups wanted everything that had to do with the Ishbalans to be flattened and eventually erased from the grasp of time. And that's what they did.

For the second time, they ran through the empty village and took out every house and shop. But as Roy stepped into a house that had black soot decorating its exterior, he was placed in a situation that he couldn't block out.

He walked through the house, carefully checking each room like he'd been told to do. It almost went unnoticed though, a small door hidden in the shadows of the kitchen. He opened it with the utmost of caution, discovering that he would be going into the basement. Slowly, he descended the steps, his heavy boots causing an echo to bounce off the cemented walls. The moment he reached the bottom, he was faced with a decision. To kill or let live?

The boy turned around, his red eyes filled with fear, as he noticed the man's presence. Roy immediately raised his fingers to snap, but found that he could not. So what if he was an Ishablan? He was still a human being and a _child_, no less. The boy seemed at a loss too as his gun, aimed at Roy's chest, shook in his hands. They stayed like that for several minutes. Both drowning in fear and uncertainty.

Just as Roy was going to walk away and spare the Ishbalan's life, the boy's fear got the best of him as he pulled the trigger. Roy was quick though and before the bullet came at all close to him, he snapped his fingers. That was the end, but he couldn't let that be. That boy had so much life ahead of him. He just got caught up in some meaningless war, forced to fight a man's battle.

Smalls flames danced around the room; Roy had excellent control under any circumstance. He went to his knees and bent himself over the small body, hot and smoking. He cried over the life he had just taken, the life he had wanted to spare. It became too much as he found himself reaching for a piece of soot-covered wood and began drawing an array around the boy's body. He was going to bring this child back. At the start of the war, he regretted ever learning alchemy, but if he could bring back this boy, then alchemy would hold such wonders for himself. He would be able to undo all of his sins. He would be able to bring all of them back.

But his attempt went untried as he heard his name being called from above. He left the body in a stagger and returned to his task. With one swift snap, he sent the house ablaze, completely burning the already charred body in the basement and the circle that surrounded it.

Later that evening he returned to his tent, settling himself down in his cot. What a lonely place. The tent, the camp, the world. Every problem in the world always found its way to _him_, it seemed.

As he fought to reach the relaxing state of sleep, he found how hard it was becoming each night. And tonight was certainly no exception, especially with his most recent kill. That boy's face filled with fear and the scream that fell off of his trembling lips played itself over and over in hsi mind. Ready to break down again, his mind decided to stop the torture and changed the image into what Roy wanted it to be. In his mind, he saw himself walk away, ascend the stairs, and "forget" to destroy that house. It was so much easier to accept the imaginations of the mind over the harsh, unrelenting events of reality.

Accepting the new memory, he was able to doze off, but when he opened his eyes again however many hours or days later, the line between reality and dreams was questioned once again...

_'That white light again. Where's it coming from?'_

As his eyes focused, he realized that the white light was from the bright, fluorescent ceiling lamps. Immediately, a face came into his view. A face he was glad to see.

"Roy," the blond said softly, offering a kind smile. He took the man's limp hand in his and ran his fingers over his knuckles with comforting strokes. As Roy looked into the teen's eyes, he knew that he'd been crying.

_'That was just a dream? All of that, a dream? No, that was real. But so is this. Edward, what happened?'_

His unheard question, of course, went unanswered, but for now, that would be okay so long as his Edward stayed beside him. Because if this was all just a dream, then he preferred it over the hellish nightmare of reality.

Roy drifted in and out of sleep for the next few hours, and every time he opened his eyes, he saw gold eyes immediately meet his own. And while he slept, he could still feel Ed's presence. It allowed him to sleep peacefully and he was thankful for that. But when he felt a different, unfamiliar presence surround him, he forced himself out of his slumber.

"Good evening, Colonel," Dr. Fischer said. He pulled a small light out of his coat pocket. "Follow the light with your eyes, okay? . . . Good, your retinas are responding to the light and there's no jerking or twitching present."

_'Tell me what happened. Please, I'm begging you. I need to know. I need to know if this is real or not,' _the voice of his mind pleaded, desperate for answers now that his Edward was no longer in his view.

"You're really quite a lucky man, Colonel. Very lucky indeed. In so little time, you've survived so much. Quite frankly, I'm amazed you're still here," the doctor said.

_'You don't know the half of it. I'm far from lucky.' _His mind was beginning to tell him that _this _was the dream, that he was actually sleeping in his tent during the Eastern Rebellion. Such a pessimist!

"We're not entirely certain what happened, but your heart got so overworked that it shut down again. This, I believe, happened because of the cold you contracted in combination with whatever exciting thing happened or ran through your mind. I'm sorry that wasn't at your immediate need, but you see, as that was happening to you, I was meeting with a very prominent doctor from Xing. Do you know what he gave me? He gave me the medicine that saved your life. It's a new antibiotic that he cultivated himself, but it also can work as a muscle relaxant. And the heart, of course, is a muscle. With the immediate injection of the antibiotic, your heart rate plummeted. Now, that would normally be a very bad thing, but in your case, it dropped down to normal levels. However, the sudden change of things caused you to enter a comatose state."

_'A comatose state? Then that means...'_

"You stayed in that state for two days."

_'This is real! This is reality.'_

"Colonel, we're going to spend the next few days running tests. In addition to the antibiotic, the doctor from Xing passed on some very useful information about the heart and certain heart problems. With this, we'll hopefully be able to pinpoint exactly what caused that new heart opening to form. If we do that and can fix the problem, then I'm positive we can prevent this from happening again and you'll be back on your feet in no time. But I hope you know that you'll have to have a caretaker for quite some time once you return home." The doctor smirked though a hopeful twinkle shined in his eyes. "You get some rest. You need it."

The elderly man left with those words and thought he was alone, until Ed came back into his view with a smile on his face. He took Roy's hands in his and with the same hopeful look in his eyes, he said, "We're going to be fine, Roy. Every thing's going to be fine."

_'Yes, of course it will be, because now I can have you.'_

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**Sorry that this was kind of short. There might be another chapter to this. Most likely there will be so that Ed and Roy's relationship can "blossom." Oh, and at the very beginning, Roy's thoughts about the white light are from him drifting in and out of sleep and his eyes aren't adjusted to the light. And I would also like to mention that Roy was reliving his days during the war in Ishbal (note:** '**That was just a dream? All of that, a dream? No, that was real. But so is this.'). Also, I had some issues with grammar in the beginning which I will fix soon.**

**Anyways, hope you enjoyed reading! Please review! :D**


	7. Promises

Roy opened his eyes and took a deep, nearly painless breath. The pain was slowly, but surely, fading from his body thanks to the new drug they started giving him. He wasn't sure what exactly the drug did or how it worked, but he did know that it had a ridiculously long and unpronounceable name that was mixed with an uncountable amount of vowels. But, he decided, none of that mattered, because for the first time in weeks, he felt amazing on a physical standpoint. However, on the emotional side of things, he felt so indescribable. There was no word in their language that could match how he felt without demeaning its honest value.

Yes, he could finally admit, and admit truly to himself and others, that Edward Elric was the best thing to happen in his life. Having him around made it all worth it, and he would gladly take all the pain and sorrow again if it meant keeping the other alchemist forever his. Because in truth, it was his poor health that brought them together. It was his sudden decline, his heart's failure, that he was able to develop such warm feelings for the blond he used to see as arrogant and cocky, really just a much younger version of himself.

As his mind whirled with their definite future together, he decided that it all too precious to throw away or give up on. He decided then and there that no matter how tough things got in the future, whatever lay there, he would strive to fight and be the victor. He swore to himself that he would never give up again like he had when he knew his life would come to an end. And so long as his Edward stayed beside him, he knew he would never have to give up. Never again. Every battle would be for his Edward, for the promise of another day with him.

But there was still one very big problem: He was still stuck in a hospital and being treated like the fragilest of glass figurines.

"Good morning, Colonel," Susan said with an upbeat tone to her voice as she entered his room with the familiar tray of food. "How are you feeling today?"

"Restless," he replied with a small smile and subtle shrug.

"I can imagine so!" She set the tray of food (finally solid food!) on the small table next to him.

"Any idea of when they'll let me out of here?" he asked as he took a plate of scrambled egg whites and unbuttered toast in his lap and began eating.

She laughed at his words and smiled brightly, the same smile she probably often gave her own children. "Some time this week, I think. Dr. Fischer hasn't really said too much about it, but with the way things are going now, I'm sure you'll be out of here before Sunday. Hey...Where's Edward?" she asked upon noticing his unusual absence next to Roy.

"I made him leave," he replied with the utmost amount of manners as he chewed around a mouth full of egg.

"Leave!? Did you two get into an argument?" Over the course of his long stay, Susan had become quite attached to the two of them and vice versa. She offered pleasant company and was too kind for her own good, and she also had that "air" about her, which Roy assumed was because she was a mother and sometimes moms just had that feeling about them.

"No, nothing like that. I made him go home to get some rest. After all, I'm sure that chair isn't comfortable enough to catch a decent sleep."

"Good," she said with a sigh of relief. "By the way, I'd like to thank you for what you did."

"Nah, you did more for me and him than I could ever repay. It was the least I could do."

As luck would have it, the night she allowed Ed into his room, someone had seen and snatched her out. Not long after Dr. Fischer was told about her conduct, he let her go. Upon hearing the news, Roy promptly had some strings pulled and was able to get Susan back her job, proving that he was still quite powerful even confined to a hospital bed. Then, he only felt it right that he should explain why she had disobeyed, so he told Dr. Fischer all that he needed to know and Ed did the same. Now the kind woman had her job back and the doctor held a new-found respect for her. All in all, everything worked out quite nicely for everyone.

He was reunited with the well-rested and clean blond not long after noon and they spent the rest of that day in pleasant conversation. The day, however, was the day Dr. Fischer came into this room with some very excellent, but half disappointing news.

"Well, Colonel Mustang, in the past few weeks you've been here, you've been to Hell and back. From the way things stand now, I see no reason why you shouldn't be discharged and sent on your way," the doctor said with a smile.

"Really? I can go home?" Roy asked eagerly, feeling every bit like a child. "Wait a minute...this isn't a joke, is it?"

Dr. Fischer laughed and placed a hand on his patient's shoulder, "No, no, I'm entirely serious. But," he said sharply, making Roy's ears perk up, " there are some very important rules you need to follow, so listen closely. For the first few days, stay in bed. No exercising or heavy lifting. Once you feel up to it, try to walk around some but listen carefully to your body. Also, stay away from salt. I'll be sending you off with a list of suitable foods and such. And one more thing, no sex."

"No sex!?" Roy's face whitened and his jaw dropped. "Ever!?"

"It'll seem that long," the doctor replied with a laugh. "I know it'll be tempting," his eyes glanced quickly at Ed who was standing behind them with a red face, "but your heart isn't quite read for such a strenuous activity, so you need to stay away from all forms of sexual activity. I'll tell you when your heart will be ready to withstand such a thing."

"I can't even...y'know..." Roy gave a quick nod downwards and jerked his right hand.

"_All _forms of sexual activity. Sorry, but masturbation does count."

"Damn," Roy said with a sigh, hanging his head in disappointment. He was young and, therefore, had a rather active sex drive and knowing that he wouldn't be able to act on that drive was already beginning to kill him slowly. But, on the brighter side, at least it would force him and Edward to take it slow and develop an actual relationship.

"Don't worry, Colonel," the doctor said, a laugh chasing his words. "At the rate you're recovering, you'll be able to do all the things you used to do. Oh, and most importantly, make sure you take your medicine every day like you've been taking them, otherwise you'll end up back here or worse."

After signing a few papers and receiving some more rules from the doctor, Roy was finally free to leave! He parted with Susan and Dr. Fischer, thanking them both for their excellent care. And with those hopefully final goodbyes, he set off.

The sun was shining high overhead, its rays extending like comforting arms of warmth. A small smile danced on his lips as he saw his house come into view. It felt like he had been gone for more than a decade and he was overwhelmed with happiness to see the broken fence that surrounded the small yard and the plum shutters that decorated each window. His smiled widened more as the car pulled into the driveway and soon he was standing a few feet away from the bottom step of the porch with his caretaker beside him.

"Hand in hand," he said softly, taking the blond's hand in his own. Ed nodded, looking up at him with a flawless smile and bright eyes. Together they ascended the three steps and crossed the porch. And together they walked into the house, and as soon as they passed the threshold, it was no longer a house - it was a home.

"Man, it's good be home!" Roy said, eyes darting about the living room as if something might've changed in the "decade" he'd been away. Of course, nothing had changed except that it seemed tidier. Roy assumed that Ed had something to do with that.

As Ed watched the raven-haired man's enthusiastic state, he smiled and silently prayed (despite his beliefs) that the man could keep that childlike merriment for a long time. Ed closed his eyes and in the second he did so, he felt arms wrap around him and was soon pressed against a wall of heat.

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time, Edward," the raven-haired man said softly, giving the small body he held a quick squeeze.

Ed looked up at him, a bit surprised by the sudden action and Roy's soft voice. Smiling, he simply rested his head on the man's shoulder and savored the heat that radiated off his body. He would have preferred to have his head on Roy's chest to listen to his unique heartbeat, but because of the recent surgery he underwent, the area was still very tender.

"I was terrified, Ed," he whispered, the words making Ed look up again. "I knew I was going to die, and I thought I would never be able t-to hold you like this." Roy's eyes squeezed shut as his voice cracked. Everything that had happened and the immense gravity of it all was digging itself into his entire being, forcing him to break down.

"Roy, it's okay," the blond cooed, slightly pulling himself away so that he could cup Roy's cheek. He offered a kind smile as the man's eyes opened, revealing two black orbs that sparkled wetly. "We both have a long life ahead of us, hopefully one that we can share between us. And so long as you're next to me and I to you, then you will never have that feeling again."

"You were just a dream," Roy said, eyes sliding shut once more as he tilted his head into the blond's warm hand against his cheek.

Despite how confused he was by Roy's words, he said nothing, but those words stayed with him for the hours that followed.

Not long after Roy had said the nonsensical statement, Ed sent him off to bed because of the suddenly haggard expression the man wore. The scene was all too familiar now as he settled himself down on the sofa, opening the murder-mystery novel to the page he had left off on weeks ago.

He had read over about eighty or so pages before he ripped his eyes away from the small print to take note of the time. He had been reading for three hours. After marking his place and setting the thick book on the coffee table, he rose to his feet and stretched as he slowly made his way into the kitchen to figure out something to cook. However, on his way to the kitchen, he happened to look down the hallway to spot Roy walking out of his bedroom. The raven-haired man smiled, his black eyes visibly dull with sleep, and said that he was going to take a bath. Ed nodded, watched him disappear into the bathroom, then continued his journey into the kitchen.

Ed spent ten minutes trying to figure out what to cook that would be healthy before he remembered the list of food the doctor had given them. He dug into the deep pocket of his trousers, then pulled it out and began to search for something. He had just gotten a pot of water on the stove to boil when he heard his name being called out from the back of the house.

His heart set to running as he hurried into the hallway, prepared himself for the worst and threw open the bathroom door (kept unlock at Ed's request). And should he see but Roy sitting in the bathtub wearing nothing more than a smile.

"Hi," the man said.

"What's wrong?" Ed asked quickly, his eyes staying upward while a feminine color danced on his cheeks.

"Feel free to say no, but I was wondering if you could be so kind as to wash my hair. I can't get my chest wet because of the stitches, so I couldn't take a shower, and I can't seem to lift my arms above my without a helluva lot of pain. Staying in that hospital bed so long, my hair was so neglected," he said with a small shrug that Ed only saw out of his peripheral vision. "For all the times it scored me dates, I owe it a good washing."

The small blond hit the palm of his flesh hand against his forehead with a sigh. He turned on his heels and left the room, returning a minute later with a tall, plastic cup in his hand. "Fine, I'll do it, but remember what the doctor said. I know how you are," the blond warned as he knelt in front of the bathtub.

"Thanks, Ed," Roy said softly.

Ed simply gave a small nod, then dipped the cup in the warm water blindly as he kept his eyes away from Roy's body. But despite his intention on keeping his eyes in a "decent" place, he found his gaze wondering over the pale man's broken chest...toned abs...masculine waist...big co-

"Ed? Something wrong?" the raven-haired man asked, a knowing smile playing on his lips as Ed's bewildered gaze snapped up to meet his.

"N-no, nothing. Sorry," Ed muttered, using his hand to tilt Roy's head back and shield his eyes as he slowly dumped the cup of water over the black locks. He repeated the action several times before taking the bottle of shampoo from the corner of the tub, then squeezed it out onto the wet hair. He ran his fingers, both flesh and metal, through the man's hair, slowly working the scented liquid into white suds. He wasn't sure what to think as Roy's eyes slid shut and his head went back against his busy hands, a soft moan falling off his lips. Ed swallowed hard at the sound of delight, a heavy blush forming on his cheeks. He didn't know he could bring someone so much pleasure, especially in something so simple.

Ed was almost so drawn in by what he was doing and the response from the man that he nearly forgot about washing the suds away. He took a deep breath, the smell of honey meeting his nose, as he refilled the cup and began to pour it over Roy's head, his fingers chasing the suds away.

"Sorry," Roy said.

"For what?"

"Making you uncomfortable. Really hadn't thought about how you would feel with this and all."

"No, it's okay. I'm fine," the blond replied in a small voice. "But I have something I want to talk to you about..."

"Yes, what is it?"

"Earlier today," he said as ran his fingers through Roy's hair once last time, "you said I was just a dream. What did you mean by that?"

"I had this dream and in it, I had dreamt that _this _was the dream. I had dreamt about you, but I didn't know who you were. I knew nothing more than your name and what your looked like. You were a dream within a dream," he said softly. "It hurt a lot not knowing why I loved someone I didn't know. It hurt not knowing who you really were. Then I woke up."

"How do you know that this isn't the dream, that you're actually asleep somewhere?"

"That's the funny thing though. Since I woke up from that dream I've been having doubts about it, about what's real and what isn't. Over and over I told myself that all this was the reality, but I kept waiting to wake up again and have the dream end. But when I held you in my arms, I knew that this was real. And if I'm dead wrong about this all and you're just some figment of my imagination, then I hope I never wake up."

"Maybe I'm the one dreaming and you're the one who doesn't exist," Ed said with a smirk. "Maybe, just maybe, this is _my _dream."

"Then promise me that you'll keep dreaming of me. I don't want this to end."

"The water's getting cold," the blond said after a minute of silence, easing himself on his feet. He turned to leave the room, but stopped before crossing the threshold. "If this is just a dream, _my_ dream, then this is too wonderful not to dream about." He didn't linger after those words, shutting the door behind him as he left.

He took his spot back on the sofa, forgetting about cooking. He stretched himself out on the sofa, sighing deeply as he closed his eyes. Not meaning to, he drifted off to sleep where he found dreams and promises of a future with a man with eyes of a moonless midnight and hair that shimmered in hues of blue in sunlight. He was so deep in sleep that he wasn't aware of that same man gazing down at his peaceful face.

Roy smiled, remembering the last time he'd seen this same scene. He brushed back a strand of misplaced hair, his hand brushing against Ed's cheek. Although he thought about doing now what he hadn't done before, he refused. He decided that he was going to kiss the blond while he was aware of it happening and at a time that seemed right.

The following morning, Ed fluttered his eyes open as sunlight dressed his body. With a groan, he rolled off of the sofa and made his way into the bathroom. From there he went into the kitchen, surprised to see Roy propped against the counter with a glass of water in his hand.

"Good morning," the raven-haired man greeted, smiling brightly. He took a sip of water, then set the glass down on the counter-top.

As the blond neared him, Roy grabbed his hand and led him to the far wall of the living room where a neglected masterpiece rested. Roy sat down on the black leather bench and smiled up at him, his fingers automatically going over the white keys where he began to play as he had for Ed in the past.

Ed thought he would melt through the floor at the way Roy's black eyes peered into his as his fingers worked without visual direction, successfully producing the most brilliant and stunningly beautiful of melodies. His eyes slid half shut as the melody slowed and softened, he leaned forward slightly and the dark-eyed man did the same, his own eyes becoming heavy lidded.

Their lips met, softly pressing against the other's. Roy's fingers slowed and slowed until the song stopped, his hands leaving the row of keys to rest on he back of Ed's neck, deepening the kiss. He felt the teen's fingers curl up in his hair, pulling at them with the same intensity of the kiss. Their lips stayed locked for a considerable amount of time before Roy's mind told him to stop. His heart was thumping hard in his chest and he pulled away, smiling at the blond who smiled back.

"I love you, Edward," he said softly as he took the teen's hand in his, their fingers interlocking.

"Roy, I love you too."

As the returned words met his ear, Roy felt a million pins touch his heart in a delightful warmth. Yes, now he knew without a doubt that his life, once shrouded by ruin and despair, would be filled with happiness and joy. Love. From that very moment, he knew his life would finally be worth living.

* * *

**Yay! This fic is done!! I'd like to thanks everyone who read, reviewed, faved, alerted, and all that good stuff. It really means a lot to me, and thanks for all the support. I hope you all enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing this! :)**

**Just on a different note: I know their whole love thing is rushed. Personally, and maybe I'm very wrong about this, I don't see true love as working this fast. However, I will admit that I've never experienced love, therefore, writing it is guess work, you could say. I really just have no clue how love grows and all and that's why it's as rushed as it is. It's just something I'll hopefully work out as I go on.**

**Anyway, thanks again! And for the last time, please review!!**

**Oh! I have a poll on my profile and I would greatly appreciate it if I could get some votes/answers on it!! Thank you!**


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